


Image.

by raccodactyl



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Homophobia, Self-Esteem Issues, i guess a lil bit of angst but not rlly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccodactyl/pseuds/raccodactyl
Summary: It was your usual shift, working graveyard at the jail in Annesberg. You sat at your desk, huddled in your coats as the wood exterior of the jailhouse didn’t do much to shelter from the barbarous cold of the bleak midwinter. You shivered as you attempted to warm the shells of your ears as they grew redder and began to sting./God damn this cold./





	Image.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for not posting this like 3 weeks ago. burnout is a hell of a thing.

It was your usual shift, working graveyard at the jail in Annesberg. You sat at your desk, huddled in your coats as the wood exterior of the jailhouse didn’t do much to shelter from the barbarous cold of the bleak midwinter. You shivered as you attempted to warm the shells of your ears as they grew redder and began to sting.  _ God damn this cold. _

“Well, son, I think I’m going to head back home before the storm hits,” Sheriff Earp said as he got up from his desk. “You gonna be alright tonight?”

“No different than any other night, just colder,” you said with a hollow smile. “I’ll be alright. You get home to your family and tell your boy I said hello.”

“Will do,” he nodded as he placed his hat on his head. 

The blustering winds came rushing in through the door, no matter how hastily he made his way out of it. You pulled the coats you wore tighter over your shoulders, the worn layers not doing much to keep you from freezing to the bone. Through the window, you could see the snow falling in sheets, wind howling like a wolf claiming her territory. There was not a shred of remorse in Mother Nature’s icy wrath. 

You got up from your chair, joints cracking as you did, and made your way towards the fireplace adjacent to the sheriff’s desk. You took a cut log from the small woodpile and placed it on the fire behind the metal mesh gate. You blew on the flames to help it catch quicker, no matter how quickly it would’ve caught on its own. 

You went back to your desk and filed through the papers Earp had left for you. You hung up the fresh bounty poster on the board near the door and went over orders and permits that needed signing. The town didn’t tend to see more than petty criminals, most of the folks brought into the cell did nothing more than cause a ruckus at the tavern, though there was still little tolerance for those who disturbed the peace-- drunkenly or not. 

You went back to the wood desk and dug out the stamp from your drawer, putting the date on each of the things Sheriff Earp had signed and prepared them for the postman who would arrive in the morning. The task was mundane but you knew you’d have people throwing a fit in the office if things weren’t signed off quickly. You ached to be able to put your thick gloves back on, the cold making your fingers get stiff, but you couldn’t properly do your job with them on. 

_ Just get this done fast, _ you told yourself.  _ The faster the better. _

You pulled your hat over your ears and gave a hot breath to your fingers before working as fast as you could without making any errors. You still double-checked the addresses before stamping the envelopes and make sure to make sure everything was filled out properly, but it was efficient. You slammed through the stack of papers in less than a half-hour and nothing felt better than seeing the stack of paper fade into an empty desk. 

From your drawer, you took out your lined elk gloves, and as if God himself had kissed each and every one of your fingertips, sweet relief was found in the warm cotton of the interior. You walked back towards the fireplace and squatted down to get closer to the heat.  _ God damn this blizzard. _

You took the short stool that sat next to the sheriff’s desk and took a seat in front of the fire. You didn’t do much more than try to catch a bit of heat, nothing else occupying your mind-- just keep warm. You sat there with your eyes closed, hunched over with your hands outstretched in front of you and singing the song your folks would put you to bed to as a child. 

You jumped when you heard the creak of the wood door opening, any footsteps drowned out by the harsh winds. You quickly got up and faced the sudden guest, quick to usher the door back closed without letting too much heat slip out. 

You turned around when you pulled the door shut and revealed was four men, all of them the rough and tumble type, and one of them, in particular, being held from the bindings around his wrists. 

“What’s going on here,” you asked in your “deputy voice,” doing your best to make your chest puff out and your shoulders look broader. 

One of the men dug into his pocket to pull out a crinkled, yellowed bounty poster, “Think this is yer guy.”

You looked the poster over quickly, “Sure. Put him in the cell there, lock the door.”

You went into the sheriff’s desk and found one of the bill stacks as the bounty hunters put the fresh catch away in the cell. The men came back and stood in front of you with expecting glances. 

“Three of you in here for a $20 bounty? In this cold? Jesus,” you shook your head. “Good on you gentlemen.”

The leader of the three took the bill stack from your hand, giving you a patronizing glare, “Justice ain’t about taking breaks,  _ Deputy _ .”

You looked at him with a raised brow briefly before returning to your casual state, “Go on, get outta here and get home. Go on now, git,” you said as you walked them out, making sure to close the door tightly behind them.

“Out past dark in this blizzard for a cheap bounty, don’t know what in the hell would possess them to do that,” you said to yourself. 

“Yer tellin’ me,” the new inmate replied, bringing you out of your focused haze. 

You let out a sigh and took your spot at your desk, putting your feet up and pulling out the newspaper, “It’s Morgan, right?”

“Arthur,” he said back, “Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, don’t know if saying ‘pleasure to meet you’ would be appropriate in this context, so I shall say, I appreciate your acquaintance in this cold night of quiet.”

“You’ve got an interesting way of talkin’ there, friend,” he replied. “Don’t sound much like any sheriff I’ve ever met.”

“What do you mean?”

“Using all them big, fancy words, is all.”

“Read a book or two in my time, you pick up some things. Dialect is an interesting, telling thing though, don’t you think? Just by the way the words roll of your tongue, I can tell you’re not from around here, rather a bit further west. Maybe a rancher or a uh-”

“Cowboy,” he cut you off. 

“Sure. Cowboy,” you nodded. 

“Well, you did get about all that right. Grew up further west of here but I’ve been all over for the most part,” he said. “Though it looks like I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“I’ll admit that I didn’t read your bounty poster particularly thoroughly,” you replied. “What is it exactly that you’re in for?”

He grumbled something under his breath.

“Would you mind speaking up? Couldn’t catch a word of that.”

“Punching a lawman…” he said again, this time more clear than the last. 

You only chuckled to yourself. 

“Whatcha laughin’ at,” he asked back, sounding both confused and defensive. 

“No need to feel insecure,” you said as you came out of your fit, “I just find it funny that a few men would chase a $20 bounty in this weather over a fairly minute crime. Plenty of killers are rapists out there for them to chase, and yet they chose a poor sap that probably got caught in a bar fight. Silly, I do have to say. Quite silly.”

“Well, considering I was probably gonna end up sleepin’ in a little tent out in all that mess, guess sleepin’ indoors is a bit of an upgrade,” he replied with a half-smirk. 

“If you can call living liked a caged animal an upgrade, sure,” you teased back. “Now, if I may ask, what series of events lead you to  _ punching  _ a  _ lawman _ ?”

“You really interested,” he asked, letting himself fall back on the cold, stone wall. 

“About as interested as I am bored to be completely honest,” you replied, “Not often I get a chance to converse with a wanted man and you seem subject enough to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“You mind sayin’ that again in English?”

“You seem to be fun. I like fun. Give me your story.”

“You wasn’t wrong about the bar fight,” he said with a smile. “Got into it with some hillbilly in the tavern. I felt a hand on my shoulder so, without looking, I just kinda, y’know… hit him. Then I just bolted before I could get anyone on my tail.”

“Makes sense to put such a low price on your head then,” you smiled back.

“I’ve been a good boy, for the uh, for the most part.”

“Of course.”

“Can I ask you questions too?”

“Think it might be hypocritical if I said no.”

“Er, fair enough. Meant to ask you how a feller like yourself ended up doin’ this. You seem more the uh, professor or librarian type.”

“That’s an interesting assumption,” you nodded along. “I’ll have you know I was a bounty hunter before I found my seat as deputy.”

“You? A bounty hunter,” he asked with disbelief. “I wouldn’t believe my eyes.”

“It might surprise you, but one doesn’t have to be himself a brute to take on a brutish profession. Might help to outsmart your enemy before you go in, guns  _ blazing _ as you cowboy types tend to do. Also a damn good shot.”

“Wish I could be offended there, mister, but it seems you’re about right.”

“You a gunslinger yourself, Mr. Morgan?”

“Some might call me that.”

“I asked about you.”

“Sure. A gunslinger. Bounty hunter.  _ Enforcer _ . Whatever you like to call the scary one that gets other people’s shit done,” he spoke with an air of confidence.

You let out another chuckle, “I can respect that. Though, I might consider changing your methods.”

“What you mean?”

“I mean bounty hunt with a bit of dignity. I shouldn’t see a speck of blood on you when you’re finished with a job.”

“How the hell you know what I look like after I finish a job?”

“Have you forgotten?”

“Forget what, mister,” he asked confused. 

“You’ve picked up plenty of payments after bounties from this here sheriff’s office. Been here more than a few months now and I do have to see, it is interesting seeing you being brought in rather than the verse.”

“Seems you know more about me than you’ve led on,” he said with a raised brow. 

“Didn’t know much more than the face until a few minutes ago.”

He sat back, seeming a bit defeated, though there was no reason to be, rather just out of questions to ask or quips to toss back. You sat back too, relaxing a bit before realizing the fire was going down again. You got up from your chair and placed another log on the fire, and then another for good measure. Luckily, both again caught quickly. 

You were about to sit down again but you stopped yourself and looked to the inmate in the cold cell, “I know you got your coat on, but you warm enough in there? I’d rather not have you freezing on me.”

“It’s not warm, I’ll tell you that.”

“Think the Sheriff keeps an extra set of sheets in the closet here,” you said, walking towards the little broom closet. You opened the door and on the top shelf was a set of blankets, albeit thin, but it was better than nothing. 

You walked back over to the cell and handed him the blankets through the bars. He took them with gratitude and much like a child, sat on the bad and wrapped himself in the blankets. You took your spot next to the fire and tried to get warm again. 

“Goddamn this cold,” you repeated to yourself. 

More quiet moments passed as you flipped through papers to pass the time. He laid on the bed with his eyes closed and you swore you could hear him snoring. It had been a long time since you had an inmate that wasn’t horribly obnoxious so this was most definitely an upgrade from the usual clientele. After a while, you just sat back and lit up a smoke, though your hands were still cold, it was better than doing nothing. 

You put your feet back up on the desk and let your chair stand on its hind legs. You crossed your arms, letting your hands stay warm and just keeping the cigarette between your lips. Closing your eyes, you just tried to relax and focus on nothing. 

You must have been dozing because a certain heat on your lips woke you. The cigarette had burned almost to your lips and you spit it out hastily. In your frantic moment, you also found yourself losing balance, and before you could do a thing about it, you found yourself flat on your back with a crash. 

“What in the hell-... Oh,” you heard him say as he rose. 

You let out a groan as you collected yourself, supporting yourself on your elbow and running a hand over the back of your neck. You kicked the chair from out of you and collected yourself as best as you could. You stood up and brushed the dust from your duster and picked your hat back up. 

“I’m sure my tales of bounty hunting are seeming false with my move just there. I promise I can shoot far smoother than I can, well,  _ sit.” _

“I’ll have to take your word for it, Deputy,” he said with a snicker. “Goin’ and making a fool of yerself, but hey, stays between us.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” you nodded.

“It’s nothin’,” he said quietly, as if not worth saying. “This cold knocks the sense out of you.”

“That it does,” you said with a sigh. 

“Still no end in sight, it seems,” he added. 

“No, not for men like us,” you shook your head. “Not for men like us.”

“Whatcha mean there?”

“I mean the cold doesn’t leave when you’ve got blood on your hands. I may be a bit presumptuous in my statement, but I think it’s fair to say that neither of us will be knocking at the pearly gates when we find our last days.”

“No, no, you’re, uh, you’re right about that one,” he nodded almost sadly. “Cold really does stick around, doesn't it.”

“Not lived a day without it,” you said quickly with a feigned smile. “Not a goddamn day.”

A moment of silence dragged. 

“You know, for as often as I sit and watch men rot behind bars, I feel oddly guilty at this moment,” you said. You leaned forward and met his eyes, “This may be a bit of an odd proposition, but I feel like I should let you out. Not free of course, you’ve got to stay your time, but I'd rather not sit and talk to a man locked away. Just the principle of the thing is getting to me- You know, I’m rambling I should stop.”

“Do you think I’d say no to being allowed to get out of these bars,” he asked with a smile.

“Of course,” you rolled your eyes. 

You got up once again and went a few yards over the cell and lifted the heavy lock, letting him out from behind them. You held the door open and told him to grab the blankets from the cell bed. Together, you laid them out in front of the fire. As he finished, you went to the door and brought out the barricade.

“No one’s stopping in tonight, and I’m not letting the wind blow in anymore,” you said as you pushed it down over the door. You grabbed a pot from the small pantry and poured a bit of water before settling it near the coals, letting the water boil in preparation for some instant coffee. He sat down in front of the fire as if he hadn’t just been behind the cell doors. His nonchalance almost stung. 

“How’d you get out of bounty hunting,” he asked earnestly. 

“I found this,” you replied. “I was tired of moving all the time, drifting in and out of places, it was more than just draining. I found an ad in the paper here and had word with the sheriff. It doesn’t pay nearly as well but I think it’s worth it after a while. Less of a hassle really. I have hours now and a steady income. It’s different in a lot of ways, but I still put bad men down for a living.”

He nodded without another word, letting the information sit take like a fine, aged whiskey on one’s tongue. He soon spoke up again, “You like it?”

“Parts of it.”

“Which parts?”

“Well, as I said, having hours is nice, though you see they have me working nights. It’s good to have a home even if the town is a bit run down. It’s not as grand as I ever imagined it being, but it’s mine and I get to leave here and go back to it after the sun rises.”

“What parts don’t you like?”

“Water’s boiling,” you said. “Ah, damn. I forgot the coffee in my desk.”

You got up from your spot on the floor, giving yourself an internal pat on the back for being able to dodge a simple question you’d rather not answer. You grabbed the little tin of coffee and brought it back to where he sat, pouring the dark powder into the water and letting it turn before pushing it back toward the coals to settle. 

“What do you do besides bounty hunting, Arthur?”

“Not much, really,” he shrugged. “I do what people want of me. Maybe get a little extra money pulling favors around town or gettin’ folks jobs done for ‘em. Bounty hunting seems to be how I make my money though.”

“Dangerous work. Must be doing a lot of it to make it that profitable.”

“I ain’t got much to lose.”

His words stuck you again, losing whatever it was you felt you were about to say. You just kept your mouth shut and focused on pouring the coffee from the pot and into the thin ceramic mugs. You handed him one and he took it with gratitude, cupping the mug with both hands and letting the steam warm his face. The dark liquid hit your tongue and you could feel it as it travelled down your chest, the glowing heat a sharp contrast against the empty cold. 

“You never answered my question back there,” he said, the sudden question startling you more than anything else. 

Your head shook as you gained your bearings, settling yourself and opening your eyes wide. “I’m sorry, would you mind saying that again?”

“I asked what you didn’t like about working this job, tha’s all.”

You took another sip of your drink and cleared your throat but he went to speak again. 

“You don’t gotta answer if it’s too pressing. I was just curious is all. You seem to talk quite a lot- shit. That ain’t come out right-”

‘No no,” you said quickly, “I really do talk quite a bit. No offense taken.”

“I’m sorry, but… yeah, I don’t know, I didn’t really think about what I was askin’.”

“I don’t think anybody else would react as strongly as I did over such a simple question,” you replied, trying to take out any sense of guilt he may have had. “I may just be a bit more sensitive than other folks.”

“Ain’t no shame in that.”

“But it sure does seem like there is,” you sighed. “I’ve nothing to lose by telling you so long as you promise not to yap to the town about it.”

“There go my plans,” he joked. “I’m only kiddin’ though, I won’t go airing your dirty laundry.”

“I appreciate it,” you smiled. “Back to your question. I took this job and my general character seemed to be in question. As you saw with those bountymen earlier, people in this town don’t take me seriously. Haven’t since day one. All of my attempts to do better have failed and, hell, I could see the sheriff tossing me out over some idiotic rumors.”

“I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t let yourself get caught up in all that talk. You got a good job and from what I’ve seen, you do a good job. I mean, maybe letting a man with a price on his head walk free around the jailhouse is a bit of an odd choice for a deputy,” he chuckled, “But here we are. I ain’t runnin’ off on ya. People talk. I’ve had folks from here to the Pacific going’ on about me bein’ some sorta monster or the like, just because I got into a scrape with an asshole at the saloon.”

“I appreciate it, I do,” you nodded. “I wish I could keep myself from caring, though it seems that when I do make an attempt, I only seem to care more.”

You both laughed a bit. 

“I feel silly telling you all this,” you admitted, “You’re only a stranger and, really, I don’t think we’re even supposed to talk.”

“No, I can’t say I’ve ever held a conversation like this with a lawman.”

“Glad I could be the first.”

“Right back ‘atcha,” he said with a smirk. “You gotta stay up all night?”

“Always.”

“Shit,” he shook his head, “Them are some brutal hours you got.”

“Take what I can get. Worked mornings for a while but… to be completely honest, I don’t even know why they changed my shift, but they did.”

“I’m sorry, friend,” he frowned. “Startin’ to see more reasons as to why you dislike this place.”

“As am I.”

“You ever think about quittin’?”

“Of course. Every day. But who doesn’t? Something always attractive about the things you don’t have.”

“Don’t know how true that statement is considering I’d rather be shoveling pig shit than working the job you do.”

You smiled, “Sometimes I think so too.”

“What’s kept you from gettin’ outta here?”

“Stability,” you said flatly. “Townsfolk may not like me, but at least I have a job.”

“I’m far from any expert, but I don’t think that’s a great way to live. Just wishin’ you were somewhere better ain’t gonna do nothing for ya. Hell, I’m one to talk, but from the outside looking in, it does seem a bit silly.”

“Stupid,” you corrected. “It’s alright to admit it. You’re right. Things got worse for me when the people in town started talkin’ about me.”

“Unless that rumor is about you goin’ and sticking your ugly bits into a sheep, I don’t think it could be that bad,” he teased.

You smiled again, “Somehow people make it seem worse than that.”

“Well, go on and spill. Waitin’ here with bated breath to found out whatever this rumor could be.”

“Man in town convinced some others that I’m interested in other men,” you said monotonously. 

He raised his brows briefly and took in a deep breath, “Hm.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“It’s not like I’ve gone around murdering children or something else that sickly, but something of that nature ruins a man’s reputation in the same way.”

“I don’t see an issue with it.”

“But others do.”

“Is the rumor true?”

“Does that matter?”

“Only partly,” he replied. 

“I’ve got nothing to lose,” you said. “I’ll probably be out of this place in less than a month.”

“So it’s true then?”

“What, that I hate this place?”

“No,” he said, “That you’re sweet on other fellers.”

“Not one in particular, but yes, sure.”

“And that’s perfectly alright,” he said, as if you told him you had just preferred oatmeal with cinnamon rather than brown sugar. 

“But it matters to them.”

“Why the hell do you care?”

And just like that, you were at a loss for words again. With a stutter and low gasp, you tried to catch your tongue, “I don’t fucking know.”

You brought your knees to your chest like a child and hugged them, burying your face as you tried to catch your composure after the sudden emotion that was awoken with the simple statement. You felt a tentative hand brush your back for signs of discomfort before it settled between your shoulder blades. 

“”Y-You okay, there,” Arthur asked, his voice low with concern. 

You let out a sniffle, “I don’t know anymore. I wish I was.”

You sat yourself up and his hand lingered briefly, the soft, warm touch seeming to warm you more than the fire ever could. He seemed closer to you then, his legs almost brushing yours. 

“I think it might just be about loosening up, y’know,” he said tenderly, “I ain’t seen you all that much but back there with those fellers that took me in, you seem to change a bit. Get more stern lookin’. I know you gotta be that way when you hold the title you do, but… I don’t know how to phrase it. Seem stressed is all. Ain’t seen you relax yet.”

“Sometimes I question whether or not I still know how.”

“Well, for starters, you could start talkin’ a little less fancy. Might help you relax a bit.

“Believe it or not, I was raised to talk this way,” you flashed a smile, “My folks pushed the posh dialect ever since I could first speak. I guess it did me well and now, I don’t think there’s any way to break me from it.”

He hummed, “That’s interestin’, I do have to say. Your way of speakin’ does have a certain charm to it, I’ll give you that. Does seem to suit you quite well.”

A slight blush rose to your cheeks, either from the fire or from the comment, but you knew which one. “I appreciate it. Goes back your way as well. Speaking to you is like a slow vacation in its own right.”

He let out a chuckle, “How so?”

“You just are,” you stressed. “You’re flawlessly improper and wonderfully carefree, and… I envy you for that.”

“We’ve all got our troubles, Deputy. Some of us are just better at hiding them.”

“There must be a happy medium between the two of us.”

“Surely, somewhere,” he took a brief pause. “Maybe we could find it.”

He met your eyes and the warmth you felt from his hand seemed to bore out from only his gaze. You found yourself shifting closer and watched as he did as well. You could feel his warm breath against your reddened cheeks as you closed your eyes and without another second passing, his chapped lips found your own. It felt as if your insides began to defrost within that moment. Your hand found itself fisted in the lapel of his coat and his own went to your chin, the leather feeling foreign against your jaw. 

In a matter of seconds, it was over. You were left breathless, feeling a mixture of sweet relief and wild panic. 

“We can’t,” you shook your head. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head frantically, backing away from him slightly. “Goddammit do I wish I could, but fuck, I can’t do it.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because,” was all you were able to choke out. “Bec-cause.”

He put his hands firmly on your shoulders to get you from your haze, “Listen to me here. Listen to yourself. You got no reason to be on yourself the way you are. You’re still here. Ain’t nothin’ gonna make all this fall apart. Listen. To. Yourself,” he punctuated each word with a firm touch to your chest. “Loosen up. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He didn’t waste a second before pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in a bear hug to keep you grounded as you tried to keep yourself calm, buried in the crook of his neck. It felt like your body was on fire in his grasp, you wondered if he could feel it too. 

He began to rock just slightly, side to side as he hummed a low tune. You felt small in his arms, no matter how grown you were. He had a way about him to make you feel comfortable. You bullied yourself in your mind for the precarious situation at hand; you, a sheriff’s deputy being cradled in the arms of an outlaw. You did your best not to let it get to you, laughing at it more than anything else. 

You got up and wiped your eyes, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothin’, sweetheart.”

“You look tired,” you said with a sniffle. “You can sleep.”

“I don’t wanna leave you here-”

“I’m okay, I do this most every night,” you nodded, “Just here. In front of the fire. Keep warm and catch a bit of shuteye.”

“Guess I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Come on then,” you said, scooting back to let your back fall against the sheriff’s desk. 

He crawled over to you and met your eyes. You nodded, urging him to continue his motions. He moved with a bit of caution and let his head fall into your lap, looking up at you. His cheeks were tinted orange from the light of the fire, but his blue-green eyes sparkled against them The rosiness of his cheeks came out and you could only wonder how you ended up in this situation.

“You’re tense,” he said after another brief silence. “What’s on your mind.”

“A lot to be honest,” you replied, letting your hand move through his overgrown hair. “Situation itself is a bit curious, but frankly, I’m happy with it.”

“I am too,” he said. “This ain’t gotta be a big deal unless we make it one. You know that.”

“I do,” you nodded. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been with anyone.”

“I’m in the same boat. Been a long time.”

“A handsome man like yourself? Surprised you don’t have someone in the sack at least twice a week.”

He chuckled, “Nah, I ain’t really about that type of life, nor am I particularly good lookin’.”

“I’ll have to disagree on that last bit.”

He smiled again and made himself more comfortable in your lap. You relaxed a bit yourself, focusing more on the man in your lap than the concept of the whole thing. Of course anxiety never left you completely, it never did, but it was easier to deal with when you had something to get your mind off of it.

An hour or so passed and you dug into your pocket to find some crackers to snack on. Arthur still lay peaceful in your lap, his heat radiating through your body and warming you more than the fire could. He looked relaxed, his face turned in towards your body and hands on his own chest. 

You let your mind wander, trying your best to run over what might happen if you were to just up and leave the job that had been weighing you down. The idea of finishing your shift and not returning was daunting at the very least, but part of you did miss the life of bounty hunting. It was dangerous, but you were good at it. You had built a reputation and yet you gave it up to become a small time lawmen in a town that misunderstood you. There was a certain freedom that it held that you had always wanted to get back to, no matter how much security this job provided. In the end, you’d rather make a living on the move than being stuck miserable here.

The wind still whipped outside as you got into the darkest point of the night. The cold began to creep in further and you started to feel it again. You leaned forward slowly and pulled the blanket up over Arthur’s shoulders, trying to keep the two of you warm. You pulled up the collar of your duster and hid your chin under your sweater. He began to stir and a twinge of guilt came over you. His eyes fluttered open and met your own, looking a bit groggy but they held a light within them. 

“You’re shiverin’, sweetheart,” he said, getting up to sit with you. “Come on, let’s lay by the fire. You don’t gotta sleep but I ain’t letting you freeze neither.”

“Was I really shivering,” you teased yourself, “I genuinely hadn’t noticed.”

“C’mere,” he said, taking your hand and leading you with him onto the pad of blankets in front of the fire. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

He laid down and opened his arm for you to settle. You took your position, letting your hat fall to the floor behind you as you rested your head on his shoulder. It had been a long time since you had felt someone like this and he sensed that. He brought the blanket up over your shoulders and pulled you in tighter to his body. 

“You’re so warm,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I try,” he chuckled. “That’s better now, isn’t it?”

You nodded like a child and did everything you could to feel physically closer to him. He craned his neck and pressed his chapped lips to the side of your head and you blushed to yourself, laying happily in his grasp in comfortable silence.

“I don’t think I’m going to stay here,” you said. “I don’t think I want this life I’ve built anymore.”

“How’d you decide that.”

“Think you may have had something to do with it,” you joked. “I think you were the catalyst here. Made me finally realize everything I hated so much about this town.”

“Seems you just needed someone to ask the right questions.”

“And that you did. I do miss the chase of bounty hunting. The freedom that it holds. I’m sure you know that well, though.”

“Considering I’ve not known any different, I guess it may have a bit of a different take on me. I can’t imagine tryin’ to civilize myself. I ain’t meant for it. I applaud you for trying your hand at it. I sure wouldn’t have been able to hold it this long.”

“Can’t say I’ve exactly been ‘holding it.’ Gave it a good run, though it looks like you can’t completely break a wild horse.”

“You raised runnin’ around or did you fall into it,” he asked. 

“Well, that may be a long story. See, I was born in the city and lived an average life there. When I was about 12 or 13, my father passed from a rough strand of influenza. My mother, she couldn’t support me all by herself in those conditions so we hit the country. I figured my way around, took on a lot of different jobs. A farmer taught me how to shoot and hunt when I was a little older and I fell into bounty hunting when I was about 20. I did that for some years and have found myself in this ratty town for about a year and a half.”

“Shit, that is one hell of a story,” he replied. “I’ve been running since I was about 13. Never knew nothin’ else but this life. But, um, y’know it might be a silly idea so go ahead and shut me down, but when this storm clears up, would you wanna show me a thing or two? Seems you know your way around a gun if you can go ahead without gettin’ messy.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the proposal, “I’d love to. Shit, maybe you could teach me to loosen up a bit.”

“Would be a damn pleasure,” he hummed. 

It was the first time you had felt excited about something in longer than you could remember. His presence brought something out in you that felt entirely foreign, but entirely correct. He was barely more than a stranger, he wasn’t even supposed to be out of bars, but he was enough to change your perspective on what you were meant to do. His natural confidence, the sureness in himself, it was palpable and deeply admirable. You envied him for the way he just was, without second-guessing himself, he was simply him. 

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments and kudos!! they're more appreciated than you know. thanks for stopping by. part two will be out as soon as i can manage.


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